


Crazy cat ladies are not supposed to be that hot

by whosophia



Series: one shots/short stories [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/F, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5320421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosophia/pseuds/whosophia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke just moved into a new house and she often hears her neighbour talking to herself from behind the paper thin wall. Weird right?<br/>What if the crazy hot girl from the grocery store she has started going to way too many times (of course not because of the cute employer) happens to be her just crazy (hot) neighbour?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crazy cat ladies are not supposed to be that hot

**Author's Note:**

> My friend Pauline (itsadoucifyingworld) sent me a prompt a few days ago and I finally managed to get this one shot done. 
> 
> Merci beaucoup! J'espère que c'est ce que tu voulais! ;)

It's a Friday sunny morning at the end of March and Clarke Griffin is stumbling up a second flight of stairs with two boxes piled in hands and an overflowing backpack hung on her shoulders; half muttered curses escaping her mouth because of _this damn elevator already hates me and I just fucking barely moved here._

When The Ark offered this young, promising, excellent newly graduated neuro-surgeon one of the most prestigious internships in the country she couldn't refuse it. I mean, who on earth would?! Millions of doors will be awaiting wide open in the future.

Leaving the family's home and friends had been hard but she needed to live closer to the hospital and, well, NYC is more than well known for being the city of opportunities which Clarke is determined to take advantage of as much as possible. Also, the doctor is, in fact, moving a mere couple of hours away.

"Dear lord, Griffin! What the hell did you bring with you?! You are moving into a fully furnished mouse hole. How many stuffs you need?"

"Shut up, Bell! And be careful with those ones, my art supplies are in them."

"Aye aye capt'n."

"O, you alive?"

"Yeah, kind of. You owe us buckets of alcohol as a reward, though." A panting voice yells, many steps behind.

"Yes, I am aware. Although, shall I remind you two who kept away your hair while you were throwing up at Sterling's party _that_ summer?" Clarke raises an eyebrow in Octavia's direction before pointing a finger towards the curly-haired man. "Or, who introduced you to your wife-to-be?"

"Are you planning on using Echo as bribing material forever?"

"Hell sure I am. Come on now, let's get this moving officially done and go get wasted."

*

A few days later Clarke is coming home from the hospital after a too long exhausting shift.

The facility is probably the greatest the doctor has ever seen, not even considering where she had previously been working at. The colleagues and mentors are some of the most innovative and expert minds worldwide, being part of this pulsing environment makes everything exciting, fairly bearable and easier. Even 29 hours straight shifts.

Clarke has barely been in her flat since the moving in; the boxes are still untouched and exploding with _whatever_  as much as the tiny flat is empty but messy. In between surgeries and rare nights of sleep, the woman hadn't had enough time to unpack nor make the house a _home_  yet. 

Cupboards are filled with nothing but coffee, creamer and graham biscuits plus some fresh fruits, soy milk and beer taking space in the fridge. It's dinner time, though, and Clarke needs food. 

Nope. Wrong. Clarke needs _carbs_. _And chocolate._

A trip to the grocery store sounds now no longer a post-ponable option hence she changes into comfy sweatpants, a warm NYU hoodie and after tucking phone, keys and wallet into the sweater's pocket she's on her way to the store just a block away.

  


The place is surprisingly crowded for being that late in the evening but the blond-haired girl is way over tired to be even slightly bothered by it. She has one and one mission only tonight: go in, get trashy food, go back home and die in bed.

Slowly the woman wanders around the store, randomly putting yogurt and cereals, cinnamon bread and fish fingers in the basket. Once again, she is not awake and reasonable enough to do reasonable grocery shopping.

"Goddamnit! Where the heck are you hiding the double filling oreos?" A very much flustered Clarke explodes after a five minutes search in the biscuits aisle. 

_"Top shelf on your left."_ An unknown feminine voice politely suggests from the other side of the shelf. Clarke, though, can sense some sort of smirk hidden behind those words.

"Thank you."

  


When everything the woman needs (honestly, mostly doesn't, just craves) is in the cart she randomly joins one of the check out queues while scrolling through her phone. 

Then her turn comes and the whole damn world stops for what feels like a lifetime but it's probably sixteen mere seconds before Clarke Griffin-surgeon cum laude-badass heart breaker shakes her head, blushing to the tip of the ears. 

The girl behind the cashier is the most beautiful human being she has ever laid eyes on. 

Curly dark hair tied up in a ponytail, the greenest irises circled in black from which Clarke cannot shift her gaze from; the apparently softest and most appealing lips to complete this chef d'oeuvre.

_Alexandria_  says the metallic tag pinned to her uniform red shirt.

_Shit. Even her name is hot._

The gorgeous woman slowly scans every article, her eyes anywhere but on Clarke's. 

_Way to go Griffin. She probably thinks you are a fuking creep._

"That would be twenty-seven eighty, please.” A polite forced smile slightly curves the brunette's mouth. “Miss?”

“W-what? Pardon me, I zoned out. I'm sorry.” _Fucking great_.

“That's alright.” Another half-smile. “The check would be twenty-seven and eighty cents, thank you.”

Shyly the blue-eyed woman pays and leaves in a rush. Embarrassed to death but with a new favourite store she'll sure be back soon.

*

Hours later Clarke is slowly dozing off on a queen size bed, resting her sore bones and even more exhausted mind while Sense8 silently plays in background. Not that she really need dialogues anymore, though, as she has already watched them tons of time.

Everything around is surprisingly quiet to be a new yorker's night. Not that Clarke feels like complaining, anyway.

Then an unknows voice starts talking on the other side of the wall the young doctor is leaning her upper body against. Clarke has already discovered how paper-thin the flat's walls are but never actually heard anybody speaking. You know, just regular daily life's noise: slammed doors, running water, ringing buzzer.

Not tonight, though.

Tonight a feminine voice is quietly chatting with _Adrienne, Gustus, Luna and Art_. Yet, nobody replies.

Like, this weird (supposedly) woman keeps rambling about something Clarke cannot completely catch and only silence comes from the other end.

"What the fuck?!" A blonde head tilts a little, now more awake and focused than before.

Yes, definitely no one is talking except for that voice. It's only a matter of minutes, though, till everything stills and Clarke finally drowns into a heavy, restoring sleep lulled by the white noise from the flat screen.

*

This weird scenario plays again in the following few days. The muffled voice usually comes at night, when everything around is mostly already silent, and it would chat with her beloved friends for a short while. Talking about god knows what with, as per usual, no replies. Clarke is not a persong to judge anyone but this late night discussions are quite odd and curios events.

Though, even if she tried many and many times, the young doctor never managed to cross paths with her neighbour and she, clearly, doesn't feel like knocking on the 2C's door and _hello! I am Clarke, your neighbour. Do you, like..have imaginary friends you talk to at night?_

*

A week later Clarke is wandering around The Ark's hallways, golden locks up in a messy ponytail and scrub still on as she updates the report about the just succesfully completed surgery on one of the hospital's iPad.

"Clarke! How are you?"

"Hello Rae! I am Alright, thank you. Tired as hell but I am so glad I get to attend and perform so many surgeries. How are you doing?"

"I am good, almost done with my shift for the day."

"Lucky. I still got a couple of hours till freedom."

"Look. Monty, Jasper, Maya, I and some others are going to have a few drinks later. You know that bar just around the corner? The Dropship?" When Clarke positively nods Raven keeps talking. "Alright. So, we'll be there if you wanna grab a beer or something when your shift end."

"Sounds good. I'll see you guys there." 

*

Evenings like this one are the perfect deal to get to know and bond with new colleagues, Clarke quickly has the chance to discover. She is, in fact, even more sure about that when everyone hugs and smiles at her as she stands up and stumbles around before finally call the night.

She is (well, most of them are) fairly drunk by now (god bless doctors' discount) therefore there is just one thing the young surgeon is able to focus on: grilled cheese sandwich. Wait, erase that. _Grilled cheese sandwiches_.

The problem is, Clarke knows, a trip to the grocery store is a needed stop because she sure as hell has no bread nor cheese at home.

_Wait._

_Grocery store._

_Green forest eyes._

_Dark braided curls._

Yep. She most definitely needs that sandwich now.

*

"Miss? Are you okay?"

"Pardon?" The blonde jolts, confused.

"I apologise for bothering you but you've been staring at those loaves for quite a long time. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, sure. I'm sorry." _Great job, doc_. _Like, way to fuck every chance with beautiful women._ "It's just...I need a grilled cheese sandwich but I cannot decide which bread I should buy or which particular cheese because you have sooo many options here. Why can't you have just one?" She rumbles. This blue-eyed woman, generally so damn put together, sarcastic, brilliant and charming has now her mouth dry and her mind blanker than ever.

_Alexandria_. 

Then, Alexandria speaks and if Clarke was already kinda zoning out this is the point of no return. "I see. Okay, let me help you with that, would you?" Sensing that the girl in front of her had probably had a quite fun night, Lexa decides to give her a hand.

Not because the young woman is breathtakingly gorgeous and the flustered way she speaks and look at her is something magnificent and hypnotising. _Absolutely not_. And it's not even the fact that Lexa has actually been noticing said golden-haired beauty coming at the store basically every other day, always in the evening when she was, luckily, on. _Nope_. That would be creepy and awkward. It's just that Lexa is such a polite and well trained employee and she cannot let a drunk woman standing there alone, staring at bread loaves.

"Here." Lexa picks a package from the shelf and quickly grabs the blonde's wrist, leading the stumbling human being towards the dairy aisle. "This cheese is the perfect choice. It'll melt and smell like heaven, trust me."

"I do trust you." _Coukd you be any more lame, Clarke?_

"Okay." The brunette replies, not even trying to hide the smirk blossoming on her lips. "Let's get you to the check outs."

*

The next three days result in too many hours shifts, cold and quick meals grabbed at the canteen in between surgeries, definitely not enough sleep and missing mesmerizing dark circled green eyes.

On a Friday Clarke has finally just came back home. She has grown to appreciate the littlest things: dropping her bags on the living room floor, peeling the hospital smelling clothes off before jumping into her shower. 

This particular night she is about to  doze off on the couch, comfy shorts and an Ark tee on when a knock on the door suddenly drives the almost asleep woman back to reality.

"Who the hell could it be now?!" Half mumbled curses slip from her theet as she pads towards the entrance door. "Yes?"

_"Uhm.. Hello. It's Lexa, your neighbour from 2C. I'm sorry to bother you this late at night but I kind of have an emergency and do you maybe, by miracle, own a car?"_

At this point Clarke obviously rushes to the entrance, a little less pissed off by the sudden interruption. She is so so so not ready, though, for what is expecting her behind the wooden door.

_Alexandria._

_Lexa._

The way Lexa's jaw drops shows the woman's mutual surprisel while her worried gaze lights up and soften for an instant as she lays it on the unknown neighbour. Well, _unknown_.

"Hello." Clarke speaks, pupils glued to the elegant figure in front of her.

"Hi. I'm Lexa." Lexa introduces, raising a hand.

"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Clarke." The blonde replies, holding it. For quite too long, if anyone would feel like pointing that out. "So. Did you mention an emergency? What happened?"

"Oh, yes, right!" The worry takes over the taller girl again. "My dog, Artigas, has probably been eating something bad. He has been throwing up since I came back from work and, god knows, maybe earlier. I really need to take him to the vet but I don't have a car and the only ER open at this hour is too far for me to carry him in his conditions..."

"Okay. Just let me grab my keys."

Two minutes later the doctor finds herself standing in Lexa's kitchen. The flat is specular to hers own but this one is filled with pictures, art, books, pillow and puppies.

_Puppies_! 

"You own all these animals?!" Clarke asks as she kneels to scratch a ginger kitten's ears.

"Yeah. I volunteer for an animal shelter and we were outnumbered. I mean, how could I say no? Look at them!" Lexa replies while getting Artigas ready. "That spoiled red one is Adrienne."

Next Lexa points her finger in the direction of the couch from which just a long white cat's tail is visible. "Underneath the sofa is Luna. She is the shyest one." And then again. "This one,of course, is my baby Art."

Suddenly a tiny black, handsome, ball of fur starts biting at the blonde's shoe causing the woman to burst into laughter before being hold and cuddled. "Last but not least, Gustus. He seems to like you already." Lexa explains as she stands up, Art firmly secured in between her toned arms. "Shall we go?"

*

"Thank you for helping me, Clarke."  


"Please, don't mention it." The blonde hoestly replies, not even bothering to hide the grin brightening her face up. "You sticked with me and my goddamn grilled cheese the other night, this is the least I could do.“ 

Lexa's chuckle...

"So..You weren't talking to yourself at night?"

"What?! Of course not!" Flustered Lexa is not a common thing to attend.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be rude. I just- I heard you talking a few times but nobody replying.."

"Yeah, no, I get it. That did probably sound weird. Truth is, I am out of home basically the whole day in between classes and my job therefore when I get back home I want to spend some time with them and I enjoy telling somebody about my day."

"Well." Clarke's smile widen as a though forms in her mind. "I'm pretty sure they all are great listeners and all. You might, uhm- You might could knock on my door as well, some nights. If you fell like it." The suddenly insecure blonde offers, eyes fixed on the road.

"I'd really like that."

"I mean, there is just a certain amount of times a girl can go grocery shopping in a week before it getting weird. You know, I'd prefer to spend my money on a dinner in order to see you."

Blushing, chuckling, smiles growing wider the two women enjoy this moment together which just feels like the first of many (even better) more.

**Author's Note:**

> whosophia.tumblr.com


End file.
